


of coffees and phone calls

by gongryongs



Category: Mamamoo, SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 23:56:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9147772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gongryongs/pseuds/gongryongs
Summary: Was it you who melted me or was it the coffee you spilled on my shirt?





	

"That would be 14,000 won," the barista says as she hands 2 cups of hot coffee and 2 cups of iced ones to him and Wonwoo.  
He gives her the amount she stated with a thank you and turns to head outside, where the other two were waiting earlier—except now he can see through the window that they're talking to a girl. Jung Wheein, a girl he recognises, but hardly knows about. He doesn't mean to stare, but Seungcheol thinks it's (kind of, a little tiny bit) _cute_ how she's talking so enthusiastically, eyes opened wide and hands moving.  
  
He was struggling to open the door when she patted Hansol's shoulder as she was leaving. When he's finally out of the cafe, something hits him from the side, and suddenly all he can feel is the heat on his torso all the way to his thighs. He quickly pulls the front of his shirt away from his body, drops the cups he was holding, and grabs the tissues in Wonwoo's hand to wipe his body along with repetitive exclaims of "ow ow ow" out of his mouth.  
  
"Oh my god," a girl's voice brings him back to present time. He lifts his head and shifts his sight from his chest and sees a shocked face of a girl.  
  
"I am so so so so sorry I was hurrying because Yongsun unnie— so I—,“ her eyes turns to the paper cups on the floor and widens, "oh god your coffee—please wait here, don't go anywhere," she says as she runs in to the cafe and straight to the barista behind the cash register.  
  
  
She comes back with two of the same paper cups in her hands, face still panicking, and goes straight to the boy with huge brown stains on his shirt. "I hope these are right—I told the barista to give me the same ones she did to you, so I hope she has a good memory. I'm so sorry about your coffee, and your shirt oh my god your shirt," she puts her hands so they're cupping the sides of her face.  
  
"You know what? Hansol has my number," she points to his member behind him, "please call me if they can't clean the shirt. I really need to go right now, I'm so so sorry. Please _do_ call if your shirt is permanently ruined, I'm sorry once again," she bows multiple times and runs to the black van parking nearby, leaving Seungcheol speechless.  
  
  
  
  
Two days later, he sees his shirt, clean and pristine, in the Washed-Laundries Pile. He inspects every inch of it— _just in case_ —to find nothing wrong.  
  
(He admits he might be a little disappointed at that)  
  
He wears the shirt and gets ready to leave for today’s schedule.  
  
  
  
He’s in the car with the hip-hop team plus Seokmin and Jeonghan, on the way to a music show. The kids are playing around as usual behind him in the back seats, when Mingyu suddenly exclaims, “Ew hyung you wore that shirt just a few days ago, don’t you have other clothes?”  
  
“This was on top of the pile,” he answers with an indifferent front while going through last night’s practice video on his phone.  
  
“Oh wait, didn’t Wheein noona spill coffee on that?” Wonwoo chimes in, “the shirt looks okay though, guess the stains were nothing after all.”  
  
“You know hyung, if you still want her number, I can give it to you anyway,” Hansol says scrolling his phone.  
  
_Hansol sent you a contact_ , he reads the notification on his phone, heart suddenly beating faster at the thought of having phone calls with her.  
  
“You should call her. She said she was considering about finding a boyfriend. She was annoyed that the headlines only mentioned Vernon and Newsun at first,” Mingyu says from behind his shoulder, resting his chin on the shoulder of Seungcheol's seat. The statement is welcomed with a big _OOOOHHH_ from the other members, and then some comments, mostly agreeing to Mingyu’s suggestion.  
  
He remembers the ruckus concerning one of his members last week. _So that was what they were talking about so enthusiastically_ , he thinks. _Not that I care, though_ , he says to himself, denying his own feelings.  
  
“Shush guys, enough. You should go memorize the changes for today,” he says, trying to be composed and all leader-like.  
  
  
  
_Dial tone._  
  
“Hello?” A girl’s voice answers the phone from the other side.  
  
“Hello? Wheein-ssi?” He says, suddenly not feeling ready.  
  
“Yes? Who’s this?” She sounds a bit more cautious now, _probably has fans or stalkers calling her_ , Seungcheol thinks as he tries to hold himself together so he sounds as normal as possible.  
  
“It’s Seungcheol—ah no—it’s S.Coups? We met the other day at the café near KBS building?”  
  
She gasps. “Oh my god, what’s wrong? Your shirt is ruined isn’t it? Of course it would, it was a lot of coffee. I’m gonna buy you a new one so can you please take a photo of your shirt and—,“ she immediately says a string of words and he stops him before the conversation strays from the reason he called.  
  
“Oh no, you really don’t have to,” he cuts her words, “that’s not why I called, the shirt is totally ok—the stains disappeared completely.”  
  
“Aw it’s okay I’ll take responsibility— Wait what?” She was probably ready to push and pull with him about the shirt, so he can hear from her voice that she was taken aback.  
  
“Yeah well the shirt was okay, really,” he said. _Okay here goes nothing_ , “I called because I feel bad for the coffee, because it wasn’t entirely your fault. I want to repay you, so… maybe we could get a cup—or two cups, because that’s what you got me—of coffee sometime?” _There. It’s finally out._  
  
“Oh,” was all she said. And then silence. (Or not really, because he swears he can hear muffled chattering of girls through the phone.)  
  
“…Hello?” He checks if the phone was still on, a bit nervous and just about ready to be disappointed. “If you don’t want to—or maybe you don’t like coffee—that’s okay too. I can tell Hansol to give you the money,” he’s feeling hopeless by this point. He's thinking that maybe it wasn’t a good idea after all.  
  
“No, no, I would love to,” she answers. He is surprised at her words, and had to make sure that it meant what he thinks it meant, “Sorry, what?”  
  
“Yeah let’s go get coffee sometime,” she says again.  
  
“Yeah. Cool. Okay. I’ll text you more about when and where?”  
  
“Sure,” he thinks he can hear an amused smile from her answer.  
  
He hangs up.  
  
  
  
  
He goes back to the waiting room all smiles and sunshine, and it’s like the world is a better place for you and for me and the entire human race (he thinks so anyway).  
  
He whistles a happy tune and nods his head to the rhythm while his hair was done. The hairdressers have to tell him off because he keeps moving ( _do you want your hair to look like a palm tree?! STOP MOVING, CHOI SEUNGCHEOL_ ).  
  
  
  
“Your leader is such a dork,” Mingyu tells Wonwoo, shaking his head.  
  
“He’s your leader too,” Wonwoo returns the comment.  
  
“Unfortunately,” Mingyu says as he sighs heavily.

 

 


End file.
